


A Night at “Eve’s Fall”

by Arithanas



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were things friends didn’t need nor miss when company was good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night at “Eve’s Fall”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toujours_nigel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/gifts).



> My gratitude to [Alby_Mangroves](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Alby_Mangroves) for the beta work.

The Honorable Phryne Fisher drank her cocktail with one greedy, long and luxurious sip. Crème Yvette and Gin mixed agreeably and warmed her from her red made-up lips to her pump-clad, varnished toes. Eve's Fall mixed the best cocktails in Melbourne and every time Mac invited her to visit the club, two shots were the bare minimum.

Elizabeth MacMillan, who sat by her side, watched as the consumption ritual was performed, marvelously attired in a fine tuxedo. The impressive amount of Macassar oil on her light hair gave the impression of a well-managed brat, the kind of kid whose mother used all the methods to house-break, with only enough success to make the fruit of her loins presentable to polite society.

Phryne smiled. Mac could turn on the charm with an ease she would never manage to understand completely. Being comfortable in one’s own skin must have some downfalls but whatever they were, Phryne couldn’t see them.

There was a pretty, elegant desk lamp on their secluded table. It lacked a screen, but the proprietor put a fine peach colored satin cloth over it, covering the brightness and giving their nook an intimate, warm glow. The proprietor knew her clientele.

“To Eve's Fall,” Phryne proposed, raising her glass in a toast.

“May it serve many generations,” Mac said, presenting her Toohey’s.

They sipped again. They were early, most of the patrons had not yet arrived. The band was still assembling their instruments, but the bar was open, the tables were ready and there were things friends didn’t need nor miss when company was good.

 _May Eve's Fall serve many generations_ , Phryne thought, between sips, _and may I never have to pick a corpse up from its dance floor_.

“No, I'm the doctor and I forbid it,” Mac said, lowering Phryne's drinking hand. “No more thoughts of murder.”

“Mac, all this time and you never shared that you are able to read the thoughts inside a human mind!”

“Not any mind, just yours,” Mac replied, watching her friend with interest, “and that's because you are monothematic these days!”

Phryne pouted.

“I can't just be a lady of leisure, Mac, if I’m not solving cases, I must think of other ways to help people, and that's Aunt Prudence territory.”

“Oh no, don't you go messing with Aunt Prudence’s territory,” Mac concurred, “only murder can result from that.”

“I won't, I still value the important things in life, Mac,” Prhyne took her cocktail and sipped. “Like good gin, good music, good company and, of course, a good murder case.”

“Only you can attach such an adjective to murder...”

Phryne laughed and the few patrons at the club looked at her. At least a dozen eyes drank in her beauty, envied her dress and some even envied Mac by her side, for Eve's Fall was not rebellion or thirst for knowledge, but greed. Several women enjoyed the spectacle of a young woman at her peak enjoying herself.

And the night was just beginning.

Mac rose from her chair and walked to Phryne's side, her manners were polite and completely appropriate for a strict matron; she wouldn't do badly in one of the high society balls. Maybe the worst danger Mac could incur in showing her good manners in such milieu was that someone would want to make an honest man out of her.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Phryne took the offered hand and the invitation. The best part of showing up early to a club was that the dance floor was practically empty and they had more room to try the new American styles. Mac offered her right hand as a guide and placed the left on Phryne's waist before the band started to play some sweet, slick dance music, all horns and saxophones. Eve's Fault had the most fantastic all-female jazz band in Melbourne. Phryne let herself go, confident in Mac's lead, following the steps almost automatically. Occasionally, she felt Mac's hand leave her waist and that aroused her curiosity. Mac didn't notice Phryne's gaze as she blew a kiss to one of the musicians in the band.

“You are incorrigible.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

There was no fight; they had no jealousy and no expectations of each other. They were friends because they couldn't find to be more; Mac was direct, as always, when she stated that it wouldn't be impossible to love Phryne Fisher. Phryne was not able to love Elizabeth. It took time, but the wound healed without a scar, and that was clearly a blessing, but both of them remembered the taste of black powder in their mouths, and a weightless fear on their minds.

The music continued and Mac gave Phryne all of her attention. The music's tempo accelerated almost immediately and Phryne was taken by surprise.

“Do the black bottom!” Mac encouraged her, kicking her sensible heels to the side.

Of course, Mac knew the band’s program, and that underhanded movement sounded like a challenge. Soon Phryne as shaking her hips and shuffling her feet like she was a star of the Follies Bergière and the surprise was forgotten; she was having too much fun. Mac tried to follow her, but had neither the skill nor the confidence to do so..

When the music stopped they returned to the table, to their drinks and their chatting.

A small dinner was served and consumed, the venue was not known for elaborate meals.. The lights were dimmed after the dinner services, and a small floor show began, all the girls dressed very glamorously but also much more erotically than at other clubs long legs kicked in the air and youthful bosoms were displayed for the pleasure of the patrons. Phryne was agreeably surprised because the girls were top class and yet they seemed very happy to perform for a select feminine audience.

The show ended with a cascade of long, svelte legs, the girls doing splits in perfect synchrony. Mac, by Phryne's side, behaved like a spoiled brat, clapping loudly and whistling at the performers in encouragement.

It was when all the lights were turned on that half a dozen black-dressed police officers flooded the small all-female club.

Mac was the first to regain her wits. She took Phryne by the arm and dragged her toward the back without missing a bit, she kicked the back door open but instead of running for the alley, she guided her friend towards a big crate and pulled her inside.

Just on time, by the look of it. As soon as both of them were tucked safely inside, two policemen busted into the back-room shouting colorful expletives before running out into the alley to search for the fugitives.

Phryne spent half an hour in Mac’s arms, waiting for the ruckus to stop. Both of them were breathing shallowly, trembling in the confined space that was getting warmer and warmer as their fevered bodies stayed forcibly still, so close together that Mac’s thigh was nestled between her friend’s long legs. Phryne was sure she dozed off for a bit because the next thing she noticed was the silence and darkness.

“Mac?”

“I know,” Mac voice sounded muffled, coming from beneath the curve of Phyne’s chest, “it seems like the police are gone”.

They unfolded themselves, blood returning slowly to their limbs, joints aching a bit as they moved trying to make as little noise as possible. It took them little time to realize Eve’s Fall had been raided so thoroughly that all the things that brought the club to life were gone.

“Are these raids common?”

“No, they are not,” Mac straightened a chair, out of respect for what once was a safe place for her. “They don’t care about a bunch of females…”

“And don’t you find this needs more investigation?”

“No, Phryne, I don’t. I just want to go home and leave tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow…”

Lighting was poor in the forcibly vacated club, but Phryne could see how Mac’s lips trembled and she enfolded her friend in her arms while she indulged in mourning for that little part of her world that had been torn and discarded.

Tomorrow they could mend Eve’s Fall...


End file.
